


i love everything you do

by impulsemomentum



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Established Relationship, M/M, Spanking, god i FEEL FILTHY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 09:16:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16658377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impulsemomentum/pseuds/impulsemomentum
Summary: Pierre has to clear his throat. “Yes.”“Yes, what?” Nico’s hand moves up to grip Pierre’s chin, gazing into his eyes.“Yes, daddy.” Pierre whispers, barely audible to him above the pounding of his heart in his ears.





	i love everything you do

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: real people, real lives, don’t assume things
> 
> GOD I HAVE NEVER FELT SO FILTHY I FINALLY WROTE A PROPER SMUT FIC?? ?.?. ?
> 
> title is from training wheels - melanie martinez
> 
> inspired by this video: https://twitter.com/dpd_fr/status/1062680918123528197?s=21

Bzzzzt. Bzzzzt. Bzzzzt.

 

“Mmm....What the fu-” The rest of Pierre’s complaint is abruptly cut off when an arm snakes across his side of the bed to retrieve the buzzing phone.

 

“Hello?” Nico sounds like he’s been functional for hours, despite the fact that Pierre’s pretty sure he was soundly asleep just a second ago. “No, this is Nico, sorry. Did you need Pierre-Hugues?”

 

He raises an eyebrow at the other person’s response, before pressing a button and shooting Pierre a warning look, even though it’s Pierre’s phone anyway, ugh. “Okay, you’re on speaker now. You said something about DPD?”

 

“Yes.” Julia sounds exasperated. “They want you two to film a commercial for the upcoming Davis Cup final.”

 

“Why can’t they get Jo or Benoit to do it?” Pierre grumbles, but falls quiet when Nico shoots him a stern look again. He can somehow feel Julia’s smugness radiating across the phone, and has to resist the urge to stick his tongue out at the screen.

 

“For sure.” Nico agrees easily, placing a hand on top of Pierre’s curls to placate him. Pierre definitely does not purr out loud. “Just let us know when.”

 

“If you’re available this afternoon.” Julia says. “You’re in France for the time being anyway.”

 

“Okay, sounds good. Thank you, Julia.” Nico smiles at the screen. “Bises.”

 

“No problem. Just make sure Pierre behaves.” Julia hangs up before Pierre can snatch the phone and say something horrible and scandalous, like “I always behave for Nico”, maybe. Opportunity wasted, ugh.

 

“Pierrot...” Nico sighs exasperatedly, but his hand is still absentmindedly petting Pierre’s hair, so Pierre assumes he’s not too angry. “Will you behave or shall I call Julien and record the commercial with him?”

 

Pierre groans. “You don’t quite need to put it that way, Nico. Just let me have my moment, okay? I just wanted to wake up naturally for once.” He doesn’t add in your arms, but he feels that Nico gets the gist.

 

Nico presses a fluttering kiss to his forehead. “I know, mon cœur. Alas, duty calls.” He detaches his hand from Pierre’s curls with one final pat. “Will joining me in the shower make up for it?”

 

“Now you’re talking.” Pierre grins, sitting up, and pecks Nico’s cheek. “Good morning to me.”

 

———

 

Of all the things Pierre would have expected, this is not one of them.

 

“Well,” Nico stares at the pink tutu spilling out of the box and says wryly. “I suppose self-deprecation is one of my finer talents.”

 

Pierre finds speaking a bit difficult.

 

“Of course we can change it to something else if you’re uncomfortable,” The director says, a bit nervously. “We have other options available.”

 

Nico turns to the man, who Pierre is pretty sure is sweating a little bit, and smiles warmly. “No, it’s alright. It’s a good idea, and anyway I’ve done this before, at Hopman Cup.”

 

Filming goes well, and Pierre doesn’t even have to fake the double take when Nico reappears in the costume, because. Well. Fuck.

 

It certainly doesn’t fit Nico’s countenance, but Pierre can’t stop looking and imagining. He thinks of himself in the outfit, as Nico looks at him with hooded eyes, and almost trips across one of the tripods strewn across the crowded space.

 

He knows that he shouldn’t, that this is definitely the dumbest idea he’s had in a while, but as shooting wraps up, he scoops up the discarded tank top and tutu and stuffs it into his bag.

 

———

 

The sun is slowly setting when they get back to the house, and the bedroom is lit with purple and pink hues through the big windows Nico had insisted on when they’d first moved in. Pierre sighs, exhausted, and haphazardly dumps his bag in a corner. Nico humphs disapprovingly, but is apparently also too tired to do anything about it.

 

“Shower?” Nico murmurs, wrapping his arms around Pierre from behind, and resting his head on his shoulder.

 

“You go first.” Pierre says, and very deliberately does not swallow around the lump in his throat.

 

Nico makes a questioning sound against the crook of his neck, but straightens and pads into the closet to grab some clothes.

 

He spends the majority of Nico’s shower switching rapidly between panicking and straining to hear whether the sounds of water hitting the floor had shut off. By the time Nico emerges in a comfy Lacoste t-shirt and sweats, towelling off his hair, Pierre’s carefully arranged the costume inside a bundle of clothing, and manages to hold his nerve long enough to peck Nico on the cheek before shutting the bathroom door.

 

He takes his time showering, making sure to clean everywhere just in case. He spends even longer after, staring into the mirror as he dresses. He hesitantly runs a hand along the tank top, hissing when a fingertip grazes a nipple, already sensitive from the shower and the thin material. He can feel himself hardening already, and he’s deliberately put nothing on underneath the tutu, so the fabric rubs against him at the slightest movement, and makes it even harder to concentrate.

 

He counts to five, slowly, leaning his head against the door, before hesitantly opening it.

 

Nico is sitting on the bed already, Kindle in hand. He says, “Had a good sho-”, before he looks up completely, and takes in the situation at hand.

 

Pierre swallows. He knows his cheeks are already flushed, and he can only hope that his erection isn’t visible through the fluffy material.

 

Nico puts away the tablet, and stands up, complete nonchalant. When he gets closer to Pierre, Pierre can see that his eyes have darkened significantly, and feels a little faint with arousal.

 

“What do we have here?” Nico murmurs, placing a hand on Pierre’s hip, covered by the top. Pierre can’t help but shiver slightly. “Did you steal this from the shoot earlier?”

 

Pierre has to clear his throat. “Yes.”

 

“Yes, what?” Nico’s hand moves up to grip Pierre’s chin, gazing into his eyes.

 

“Yes, daddy.” Pierre whispers, barely audible to him above the pounding of his heart in his ears.

 

“Good boy.” A corner of Nico’s mouth lifts. “Or shall I say girl?”

 

Pierre, impossibly, blushes darker.

 

“Hmmm...” Nico pretends to think, as his hand trails down from Pierre’s face, slowly edging lower. “Let’s check to make sure, yes?”

 

Pierre opens his mouth, but is only able to choke out a broken moan, as Nico’s hand find its way under the tutu, and Nico runs a calloused thumb across the leaking tip of Pierre’s cock.

 

“P-please,” Pierre says, half desperate, hands bracing himself against the bathroom door.

 

“Please, what?” Nico says, circling his thumb torturously slowly. “Have you forgotten already?”

 

“N-no, daddy.” Pierre stammers, head falling back against the door as his eyes flutter shut. “Sorry, daddy.”

 

“Good job.” Nico praises him, and Pierre almost keens with the knowledge of his approval.

 

“So, what shall we do about this?” Nico muses, stepping back to admire his handiwork. Pierre is barely upright against the door, and his flush has spread all the way down into his chest, where it is concealed by the too-tight top. “You did, after all, steal something that didn’t belong to you.”

 

“I-I’m sorry, daddy,” Pierre pants at the sudden loss of contact. “I didn’t mean to, I...”

 

Nico raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t mean to? I think a lot of thought definitely went into this, hm?”

 

Pierre falls silent, looking at him fearfully through his still-damp curls.

 

Nico extends a hand, and leads him back to the bed. “We haven’t done this in a while, have we?” He says, settling himself on the edge and patting his lap invitingly. “You’ve been so good lately, I haven’t seen the need to.”

 

Pierre drapes himself over Nico’s lap carefully, hissing as his painfully hard cock rubs against the tutu. He feels choked with shame, but also so turned on he thinks he could probably come, on the spot, untouched, if Nico told him to.

 

Nico runs a hand down his lower back, then taps his hip, prompting him to lift so he can slide the skirt down to his ankles. He rubs Pierre’s buttocks for a while, marvelling at the softness, a part of Pierre’s body that doesn’t see the sun as often as the rest of him does. He lifts his hand, and brings it down sharply, a crack echoing around the room.

 

Pierre starts, a moan leaving his lips as his hands grasp at Nico’s leg. Nico smiles down at him, and repeats the smack again, on the other cheek this time. Two twin handprints bloom on Pierre’s skin, and Pierre gasps, his grip tightening involuntarily.

 

“How many do you think you need today, hmm?” Nico says conversationally, rubbing out the sting. “How about ten, total?”

 

“Okay, daddy.” Pierre’s voice is hoarse, and Nico can feel his dick straining against his lap, just as Pierre can feel Nico’s own arousal pushing at his stomach.

 

“Just eight more, mon ange, you can handle it.” Nico coaxes, before he lands two more, on top of the previous two. Pierre keens brokenly, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

 

Nico finishes the rest of the spanking in silence, repeating the same spots two more times each before aiming the last two where Pierre’s arse meets the top of his thighs, which makes Pierre cry out even louder.

 

Nico helps him stand, and step out of the tutu, letting it pool around his feet. “You did so well, Pierrot,” He murmurs, drawing them both onto the bed. “You were so good for me.”

 

Pierre is barely coherent, and he clings onto Nico, burying his nose into the crook of the older man’s neck.

 

“Colour?” Nico asks, because it’s been a while since they’ve done this properly, and Pierre’s more affected than usual.

 

“Green.” Pierre croaks. “Green, please, please keep going.”

 

“Okay, mon ange.” Nico smiles, and helps him out of his top. Nico trails a fingertip over a nipple curiously, and Pierre hisses, hand flying down to the base of his dick.

 

“I’m going to get what we need now, okay?” Nico says, softly. “Can you get yourself into a comfortable position while you wait?”

 

Pierre nods, shifting away from Nico’s embrace so he can go to the bedside drawer and retrieve the condom and lube. He positions a pillow and is laying down, facing the ceiling, when Nico returns to his field of view, now also naked.

 

“Okay, Pierrot, this is going to be a bit cold, got it?” Nico murmurs, letting a lubed finger tease around Pierre’s entrance. “But you’ll be good for me, yes?”

 

“Yes, daddy, please.” Pierre nods fervently, past the point of embarrassment as he stares at Nico, who’s looking back at him with almost completely black eyes. His breath hitches as Nico slides the finger fully in, and instantly finds the spot that makes him see stars.

 

Nico, sensing Pierre’s urgency, doesn’t take much time with the prep, opening him up with two fingers before inserting a third, just to make sure he gets used to the stretch. By the time he withdraws his fingers, Pierre is a quivering mess, almost incoherently begging for Nico.

 

“Are you ready?” Nico says, but doesn’t wait for a response before he buries himself in Pierre, hissing out a curse as he bottoms out. “Fuck, mon ange, you’re always so tight.”

 

“Daddy, daddy, please,” Pierre cries, grasping blindly at Nico’s forearms. “Move, please.”

 

“Of course, anything for you.” Nico bends down to drop a kiss on his lips, before beginning to move, first just in shallow thrusts but soon building up to steady strokes, moving so he can better aim for Pierre’s prostate.

 

The room fills with Nico’s soft pants and Pierre’s broken moans, intermixed with the filthy sound of flesh slapping against flesh. Nico’s the first one who comes, growling out Pierre’s name as he stills within the younger man. Pierre comes soon after, blindly calling out for Nico as he spills his seed onto the man’s chest.

 

Pierre’s pretty sure he blacks out for a moment, because the next thing he’s aware of is Nico running a warm towel over his body, before drawing the sheets up over both of them. He turns to Nico, and says, a bit bleary. “Was I good?”

 

Nico snorts into his shoulder. “Good is an understatement, Pierrot. Thank you.”

 

“Good.” Pierre grins. “Can we do that again sometime?”

 

Nico stills for a moment, before he groans. “Don’t say things like that right now; I’m an old man and I need time to recover.”

 

Pierre rolls his eyes, but settles down, snuggling against Nico. “Okay, grandpa, good night.”

 

“Grandpa?” Nico raises an eyebrow. “That’s not what I recall you calling me just now. Do you need another reminder?” He taps Pierre’s arse beneath the sheets.

 

His eyes soften as Pierre begins to protest vehemently, and he silences the younger man with a press of his lips. “Good night, mon cœur.”

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

As the dying vestiges of sunlight fade beneath the horizon, Pierre drifts off to sleep, ensconced in Nico’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> j’aimerais vos commentaires <3


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